


It's Hard to be an Atheist when the Gods Keep F**king with You

by PercyVQuinnIV



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Bards, Blow Jobs, D&D, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons Character Backstory, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Angst, High Fantasy, M/M, Mild Gore, Original Character(s), Polyamorous Character, Scars, Tiefling Biology, Tieflings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercyVQuinnIV/pseuds/PercyVQuinnIV
Summary: The armies leave at dawn for the Well of Dragons. Percy and an old friend take comfort in one another before the coming battle. (CW for gore: description of a major wound).
Kudos: 4





	It's Hard to be an Atheist when the Gods Keep F**king with You

_ “Am I out of options?”  _ This was a new thought for the tiefling. He always tried to leave himself with plenty of choices: He had escape plans ready in battle, he researched everything meticulously, and could always find a pathway for whatever magic he was trying to bend to his will. He had managed to remake his draconic Sorcery into the sweet tales of a Bard, his family occupied an estate in the mortal plane despite drawing power from the house of Belial, lord of the 4th ring of hell. He was a being of multiple perspectives, of many angles… He even had a few boyfriends, for crying out loud. He should be able to think of  _ something _ . 

But as he stared into the unblinking forest-green eyes of Dalen Winterhound, delegate for the Emerald Enclave to the Council of Waterdeep, he couldn’t think of a damn thing. He’d laid all his cards on the table as a Bard of a royal house, and he didn’t have anything else to trade. The goddess with whom Dalen was offering to intercede on his behalf -in exchange for a  _ regeneration _ spell- was demanding liaison work between himself and the tiefling lordships. One spell, in exchange for a lifetime of relaying Her messages across the land. In Percy’s opinion, the goddess was being rather bold in Her assumption that there would be any lands left to preach  _ to _ , after this week. They were about to march on the Well of Dragons, in an attempt to put a stop to the Cult of the Dragon’s ritual.  _ Attempt _ was the operative word here, of course. And if they didn’t succeed, the world as they knew it would explode in a chaotic rift of elemental rage, courtesy of Tiamat Herself.

“Make no mistake,” the woody rumble of the Druid disrupted his thoughts, “My goddess is willing to heal that wound in your chest, of course. She just needs something in return.”

Percy spent a few more moments thinking it over. Then he sighed.

“I’ve had  _ quite _ enough of fickle gods and Their gifts,” he said, pushing himself up from the log that served as seating for Dalen’s visitors, “They offer impossible boons, only to lord them over mortals, threatening to take them away again. I’ll not be bound by Her terms.” 

Dalen said nothing, only watched his guest make for the exit of his cave. Percy let his thoughts stew until he was almost at the entrance, then turned around to glower at the Druid, though he knew it was hardly his fault. He only hoped the goddess saw through Dalen’s eyes, saw the disdain this mere mortal had for Her.

“By my count,” he said slowly, “I, the associates I’ve quested with, and this entire company are all that’s left of this world’s hope against Tiamat. So, if I die out there due to my injury, if  _ we all fail,  _ then all the forests Tiamat destroys are on  _ your goddess’ _ hands.”

Percy didn’t wait for a response. He turned and stalked out of the cave.

***

He was. SO sick. Of the gods. Their games, their taste for mortal favors… if they were really so all-powerful, why didn’t they simply stop the chaos goddess in her tracks? He and his companions were out here  _ dying _ trying to prevent Tiamat’s cult from ending everything, and the gods couldn’t be bothered to  _ float out of their stupid cloud palaces _ to even  _ help _ them. Why, if he lived past this and amassed that kind of power, he’d be granting favors left and right just to balance out their lazy-  _ hoooof. _

He leaned against one of the encampment’s tent posts, already out of breath. He looked down at his chest. The place where his sternum  _ should _ be was instead a gaping hole, with his organs pulsing gently inside. He’d sealed and prevented the area from getting infected or decaying days ago, but it was the equivalent of a giant bullseye to any enemies. One wayward blow and he was finished. Not good when heading into an apocalyptic battle. Usually he wore a metal plate around his torso to mask his weakness, but in the interest of entreating the Emerald Enclave’s help, he’d come to Dalen without it. Now he wished he’d kept the damn thing on. Looking at his own lungs made him slightly queasy.

Earlier this afternoon, the Council of Waterdeep had made their battle plans. The lives of thousands of troops, not to mention the fate of the entire world, were on their shoulders. And what could he do, injured like this? What could he do, now that he’d exhausted his options?

He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted several strong drinks, and a few handsome men to take to his tent. He never had a problem getting those things, but with his body like this… he was afraid to try. He could at least admit to himself that if he had to deal with rejection, it would destroy his already fragile psychological state. And that was the last thing anyone needed from him right now, as they readied to march on the Well of Dragons. 

“Isn’t it a bit late for an evening stroll?”

Percy turned, and saw Devon Neverember standing in the torchlight of a nearby encampment. 

“Oh, I’m just… taking care of a few errands,” he shrugged unconvincingly, “I had... some things to sort before we’re ready to move out.”

“Hmm, that reminds me,” the knight of Neverwinter crossed the few feet between them and reached for Percy, pushing aside the bangs that were beginning to grow over his eyes, “We never finished our business at that inn, did we?”

He had a flirtatious, confident tone which outshone even his fine armor as it glistened in the moonlight. But Percy detected shyness in his gesture, a hesitancy which betrayed his inexperience at romancing new partners.

“Hngh,” Percy leaned into his hand, “We did not.”

Their previous encounter had been tragically interrupted by Lord Dagult Neverember’s guards, when Percy was undercover as an “entertainer” at Mama Breena’s inn, a popular co-ed bar and guesthouse, and one of the last brothels not under Cult control in Waterdeep. Devon’s father wasn’t the biggest fan of tieflings, and had higher standards for his son than a commoner’s whorehouse. He’d sent a few of his men to tail the knight, and they’d rudely burst into Percy’s quarters just as things were heating up.

Devon leaned in, his breath hot on the tiefling’s neck. “We have a difficult battle ahead of us. Perhaps we can take comfort in one another this evening?”

Percy swallowed  _ hard _ , trying to make sure his voice stayed even. As a Hero of Greenest, he was seen as a leader of the Council’s forces. Devon was an experienced knight, but he was still younger than Percy, and a very new leader in the Council since his father’s deposal. He was looking to the tiefling for guidance, and Percy had to make him aware of his situation without destroying Devon’s trust in him.

“Will you have me? My last encounter with our enemy left me… not quite whole. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. It’s not a pretty sight.”

Devon stepped back, and let his gaze wander over the tiefling. His hand lazily traced the man’s jawline, and made its way down his neck, and to his robes. He pushed them aside to reveal Percy’s wound, and though his eyebrows arched up in surprise, his facial expression remained neutral. 

“Well…” he breathed, “You and I have both seen much worse on the battlefield. Though I’m really not sure what kind of magic is keeping you upright.”

“I’m.. not sure either,” Percy turned away to hide his embarrassment, “Whether it’s Tiamat mocking me still, or a lucky break in my own magic, all I know is that I’ll be like… this… for the foreseeable future. I understand if you don’t-”

“Shh-” Devon’s hand caught his face again in his hand, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

The knight placed his other hand on Percy’s shoulder, steady and solid. His grey eyes met the tiefling’s trembling red ones. 

“Your bravery, your sacrifice, it inspires people, Lord Von Quinn. It… Inspires  _ me _ . You have never been more beautiful.”

Devon’s lips met Percy’s forehead.

“If you would honor me with your presence tonight, I would be absolutely delighted.”

As Percy’s head tilted up to meet Devon’s lips, he blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks.

“Gladly.”

***

They arrived back in the new Lord Neverember’s tent. Devon’s decorative tastes were much less extravagant than his father’s. A stand for his armor and a mount for his sword stood in one corner, along with a writing desk and a bed stuffed with something much finer than straw. He certainly valued quality, but only for the things he needed. The knight busied himself with lighting his lanterns and getting them some mead. 

They drank, conversed about the day’s Council proceedings, and then it was time. Devon tossed his shirt and busied himself with undoing the straps of his boots. Percy began disrobing as well. He was never a pants-off-first kind of guy, but that’s what met the floor as he began to undress. His robes, concealing his chest wound, were the last thing to go.

Percy looked down nervously as he undid the buckles of his robes. What if Devon had second thoughts? How could anyone be attracted to him when he looked like this?

The tiefling took a deep breath and closed his eyes. These were the kind of worries that used to spiral out of control when Tiamat held his soul in Her claws, reflecting his insecurities back to him. She was gone now. He was in control of these thoughts. And Devon had said he wanted him.

He exhaled, and undid the last buckle. His robes fell around him and he stood naked, unused to this lack of confidence. Devon murmured praises behind him, but Percy’s tail twitched nervously and he couldn’t quite bring himself to turn around.

It turned out he didn’t have to. The knight was suddenly there behind him, hips pressing into the small of his back, his strong arms wrapped around his waist, being careful to keep his hands off the wound. He lingered on Percy’s hips, the fine hair that traced his hard stomach muscles and extended even lower… the tiefling groaned at this touch.

“Hngh, yeah?” Devon breathed, his hand creeping slowly -infuriatingly _slowly_ \- downwards, “You want me to touch it?”  
“Y-esss,” Percy hissed, already getting hard. He could also feel his pulse already pounding, and tried not to think about his wound. This would take a lot out of him. He didn’t care.

Both of Devon’s hands reached him then, one cradling the base and lightly grazing his balls, the other running across the three studs of his shaft to tease his tip. The tiefling quickly grew to his full length under the knight’s hands.

“Gods,” Devon breathed, “I forgot just how big you were.”

And after a few moments, “I want you inside me.”  
“Ffffuck yes,” Percy replied, still grinding against him, “You didn’t forget where we left off, did you?”

“No-” Devon’s breath in his ear was panting now, “You had me bent over the bed, you were getting lined up and ready to slide into me before-”

“Shh,” it was Percy’s turn to shush Devon now as he stopped this honorable soldier from reliving an embarrassing memory, “You don’t need to finish that story.”

“Why not?” Devon rumbled, “I fucking loved it.”

_ Woah. _ Percy could feel his cock twitch at this revelation.  _ Did this boy have an exhibitionist streak? _

“Oh? You like an audience?” He crooned, a toothy smile breaking across his face, “You didn’t tell me you were such a pervert.”

“Do- you know-” Devon gasped as he rutted against the tiefling, “How reserved I have to be, as a knighted heir to the kingdom of Neverwinter? Sometimes I want to say  _ fuck _ their rules… and have my men watch me get  _ fucked _ .”

“Oo-Ooooh,” Percy spun around and grabbed for Devon’s cock, stroking it as he kissed him deeply. Their arousal hung thick in the air, sweat and hot breath and precum pouring from them both in passionate waves.

“Get on the bed,” Percy commanded. The knight did so, bending over for him the way he had months ago. A fresh scent, clean and with the barest hint of apricot, floated through the air as Percy  _ prestidigitated _ his signature lubricant. He stroked the length of his cock, then used what was leftover to play with Devon’s entrance, making sure he was ready to take him. The knight’s golden hair spilled onto the mattress as he bucked against Percy’s teasing fingers. 

“Oh- fuck, just like that,” he moaned.

“Touch yourself for me,” Percy leaned over and growled the command in Devon’s ear before nipping it. The knight nearly howled with pleasure as he leaned into Percy’s bite, wrapping his hand around his own length.

Percy slid another finger into him effortlessly, purring at how badly the knight seemed to want him. Talk about an ego boost. Devon merely moaned with gratitude as he relished each movement.

After a little while, Devon felt Percy’s fingers leave him. He whined as he waited for the tiefling to enter him again, trying to keep still as Percy  _ prestidigitated _ his hands clean and dug into Devon’s hips. His head pressed against Devon’s entrance, slick with desire and lube. He thrust gently, teasing them both.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Please,” Devon wriggled against the tiefling, desperate to feel him again.

Percy took it slow, making sure he could feel Devon shudder and clench with pleasure as he slid his length inside the other man. The knight felt good, his body welcomed every inch of him eagerly. He stopped at the hilt, and watched Devon twitch and buck, begging with his body for the tiefling to start pounding him. Smiling wickedly, Percy began thrusting back and forth with slow, rhythmic movements. More of the knight’s hair spilled over his broad shoulders, as he thanked him and begged him to go harder with the same breath. At Devon’s urging, he picked up speed. Moans from both men filled the tent. Devon was no longer pleading, language was simply gone from his mind as pleasure took over.

“You know,” Percy mused as he rocked his hips into his lover, “We could re-create what happened at Breena’s. I could oh, say, shout for help, trick a bunch of guards into bursting into your tent right as I cum all over you.”

“Nnnngh,” Devon’s face was buried in the pillows, but his cock twitched at Percy’s teasing. 

“What was that? Do you want the entire Council to see what a pervert you are, Devon?”

“Rrgh… Unnnf.. N- no…” Devon’s jaw clenched as he scowled up at Percy, his reddened face deepening in color, as embarrassment layered on top of the effort he was already expending from riding the tiefling’s oversized cock.

Percy could feel himself tightening as he slammed into Devon’s hips. He was getting  _ close _ . He dug his nails into the man, savoring the last few thrusts, then pulled out and leaned against the desk. His body glistened with sweat in the lantern’s light as he stroked himself.

“Spin around for me. I want to see you play with yourself while this happens.”

Devon’s legs shook as he picked himself up, and obediently knelt on the floor in front of the tiefling.

“What a sight,” Percy moaned as he cupped his head, edging towards orgasm. From the way Devon was thrusting his hips under his own hands, it looked like he wasn’t too far off either. “The mighty Devon Neverember, lord and knight of the realm, sitting here begging for me to unload all over his face.”

“Please,” Devon whined. His red tip shone with pre-cum, betraying how excited he was by all this dirty talk. 

“Since you asked nicely-” Percy threw back his head and let orgasm take him, pumping thick, hot pleasure all over the knight. Sure enough, Devon’s moans got louder and his stroking got faster as soon as he felt Percy’s seed hit him.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he panted.

“Yeah?” Percy slumped against the desk, still dizzy with orgasm, “Come here.”

When the knight got within arm’s reach of the tiefling, Percy grabbed him by the hair and guided him onto his half-hard cock.

“Clean me off.”

Devon’s eyes rolled back in his head as he bobbed along the tiefling’s length, and finally he succumbed and exploded onto them both. He groaned with the release, and the vibrations were too much for Percy, whose legs buckled. With a cry, the bard sank to his knees.

The tent was silent then, except for both men’s heavy breathing. They leaned against one another in an exhausted heap. Percy could feel his heart pounding, and suspected his light-headedness might be due to his body trying to keep up, despite its wound.

The tiefling was the first to pick himself back up,  _ prestidigitating _ both of them clean as he grabbed for his clothes. Devon remained on the floor, sleepily watching him collect his belongings.

“You could stay here, ya know.”

Percy cast a sideways glance as he straightened up and put his pants back on.

“Then the Council would  _ definitely  _ know what we’ve been up to,” he chuckled, “Thank you for the offer though.”

“Why should we care what anyone thinks?” the knight grinned, “We’ve got more important things to worry about when we start marching tomorrow.”

“It’s  _ because _ we start marching tomorrow that I can't stay. I… Need to make sure I’m well-rested. Focused on our entire team. I can’t make objective decisions about supporting and healing everyone if I’m… too tired.” 

_ And because I’m afraid I’ll let you down, _ he thought. Tonight had been some much-needed relief, and truth be told he  _ liked _ Devon. But he couldn’t get attached to the man. He knew when push came to shove, he would support the strongest members of their company, the ones with the best chance of stopping the Cult’s ritual before they summoned Tiamat into the world. That might mean reserving his healing spells for his party members. And laying awake all night wrestling with that guilt wasn’t something he could do right now.

He embraced the knight, wished him the best of luck and all the blessings of whatever-idiot-god-he-worshipped, and stepped out into the cool night air. 

The gods. They refused to help him, refused to protect the people he cared about. If he made it out of this, his goal was to surpass them all. He’d stolen Tiamat’s power once before, tomorrow he’d use his own power to end Her, or die trying.

**Author's Note:**

> A bit about the story and our D&D Campaign:
> 
> When Tiamat wounded Percy in their last encounter, she took his sorcerer’s magic and exploded from her prison in his soul, leaving a wound in his chest. My DM tried to describe how he had to take care of it, and it was really vague because, obvs, this isn’t something he’d exactly researched. But I had a LOT of upkeep questions because I myself am Type 1 Diabetic, so I know a thing or two about manual body maintenance/wound care. I was coming from a place of life experience which was totally alien to my DM, and I was… a little PISSED that now I had to roleplay a “chronic illness” of sorts in my fantasy RPG game, TBH. 
> 
> I’ve had Percy as my D&D character for 6 years, so at this point I’ve identified with him in many ways. Percy and I consider ourselves to be very STRONG people. We don’t like showing off our insecurities or vulnerabilities, though we’re acutely aware of them. Getting nekkid in front of someone is a time when we have to face that, because I’m covered in scar tissue and he’s now got a gaping hole in his chest. Add to that, I’m… worried, honestly. We’re heading into a big ol’ battle and the DM has warned us that we might all die. So I wanted to write something soft for Percy, someone who accepted him, even thinks he’s amazing for what he’s going through.


End file.
